


tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us

by evieoh



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, And a lot of feels, Angst, F/M, Hydra Skye | Daisy Johnson, Porn With Plot, Skyeward Smut Fest 2016, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 03:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14096238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evieoh/pseuds/evieoh
Summary: Skye tells herself it’s all for the mission. She needs Ward to trust her and what better way to manage that than to build on the connection between them by turning it physical? She tells herself it has nothing to do with wanting to ease that haunted look in his eyes.She tells herself all of these things and even she knows she’s lying.Hydra!Skye role reversal, set during The Well. Feelsy/angsty smut.





	tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, my previous account was hacked and all my fics deleted, so I am reuploading them all now. This fic was originally posted in April 2016 for Skyeward Smut Fest 2016 week 2

  


It’s her first night in a real bed, without the constant drone of the bus’ engines underneath everything else, since she joined Coulson’s team almost two months ago. A part of her wants to just sink down into the impossibly soft pillows and ignore what she knows she has to do, but she can hear Garrett’s voice in her head, pushing her to make her move. This is her perfect opportunity.

When Garrett first approached her about sending her on this mission, he told her that it would be difficult. That she would have to work to keep herself from growing to care about the people on her new team, while making sure that they grew attached to her, let their guard down. She thought it would be easy, and it had been at first. But now, after seeing Ward in that church, so utterly broken and hollowed out with rage, she knows that she has failed Garrett’s first rule: _Don’t get attached._

And as she walks into the bar and sees Ward sitting by himself, staring down into his glass with dead eyes, she feels paralyzed by sudden doubt of her actions. Garrett is her family, the only person in her life who has ever cared about her, she owes him. But the idea of taking advantage of Ward’s current state doesn’t sit quite right. At the same time, she feels so drawn to him for reasons that she can’t deny any longer are completely personal.

She sees May as she slips through the shadows of the bar, a bottle clutched in her hand as she makes her way up to her room alone.

Skye tells herself it’s all for the mission. She needs Ward to trust her and what better way to manage that than to build on the connection between them by turning it physical? She tells herself it has nothing to do with wanting to ease that haunted look in his eyes. (She tells herself it has nothing to do with the way she has woken so many mornings with her thighs clenched and her underwear damp after dreaming of his hands on her body.)

She tells herself all of these things and even she knows she’s lying. 

Reaching her hand across to squeeze his arm reassuringly, telling him “my shoulder’s free”, the mission could not be further from her mind. All she wants in that moment is to comfort him, to help him bear the weight that crushes him. ( _“That’s not a weakness, is it?”_ She can almost hear John’s voice in her head.)

He brushes her off but she perseveres, her hand still resting on his arm as she murmurs, “You don’t have to be alone, Ward. You shouldn’t be.”

He looks down at her hand, his eyes drinking in the sight of her skin resting against his, like it’s the first real thing he’s seen. Slowly he brings his gaze back up to meet hers, and Skye leans forward, subtly pushing her cleavage towards him. She notes the way his eyes darken at the sight and his arm tenses beneath her touch.

He stands from his barstool and for a moment she is unsure of whether or not her play has paid off, but then he reaches out his hand to her. She seizes it gratefully, feeling the sparks that flare as soon as their skin touches. His grip on her hand remains steady as the two of them walk from the bar and to the elevator in complete silence. It’s the kind of moment that should feel awkward, but Skye feels completely at ease. This is the kind of thing she was trained for, if she can only turn off her personal feelings for Ward. Or at least channel them into the mission.

 

John Garrett found her when she was 16, a little over a year after she left St. Agnes’. She got on SHIELD’s radar after poking around a few of their firewalls, and Garrett was sent to evaluate her risk level. He saw the potential in her though, and proposed a new deal: he would help her track down whatever information he could about her parents, set her up so she wasn’t living on the street and crashing on the sofas of almost strangers, and in return she would work for him. 

She figured it would be easy enough for her to ditch him if he ended up being full of shit, but he got an apartment for her, an amazing computer setup, and true to his word he found the redacted SHIELD files she had been searching for, that proved there was a link between SHIELD and her past. He still couldn’t find the un-redacted information, he told her, but he was working on it. At least now she had a solid lead, and she knows that there is a definite link to SHIELD. In the meantime he had jobs for her. They were easy, fun really, hacking into systems and tracking people down. What happens to those people once he encounters them was something she never gave too much thought. John became almost like a father figure to her: Whatever she needed, he did his best to get her. He would come to visit her whenever he could get away from his SHIELD duties, take her out to dinner at ridiculously fancy restaurants. He was the first person in her life who had ever cared about her.

There was never anything beyond a fatherly interest in his attention, no matter how much she worried it would eventually go that way during the first year or so of their working relationship. Instead, he became the first stable influence in her life, the only person who had never abandoned her. And eventually he told her the truth about SHIELD, the way they had left him to die, the inherent flaws in their central ideology. And he told her about Hydra, that they were working inside SHIELD. He was not a true believer, not to the extent that some of the true nutcases were, but he saw their usefulness. And Hydra saw Skye’s. 

John was the only family she really had, so doing anything she could to help him just seemed like the natural choice to make, the only choice. The people she was tracking down were not good people anyway. And eventually she moved onto actual undercover missions. Just small jobs, but still, the thrill of spy work was something she loved. John taught her enough to defend herself if she needed to, taught her the basics of the spy trade, took her to a woman who showed her how to use her body to attract the right kind of attention, how to slide beneath a man’s defenses and get him to reveal his secrets without him ever knowing what had happened. He had her create viruses to shield Hydra’s activities from prying eyes, hack into SHIELD’s networks and find details that could help them in their missions. She infiltrated a group of idealistic hackers called the Rising Tide, using them to bring the truth out of the shadows - to show the world the ways that SHIELD, and so many other groups just like them, are using people’s ignorance against them. 

And then the invasion of New York happened, and a man named Phil Coulson died and the game changed. Coulson was brought back to life, but John could not find out how. SHIELD had the resources to heal Phil Coulson, to bring him back from the dead, but they left John Garrett to die in a ditch. So when John came to her, told her that Coulson had been given a team and that he wanted her to get on it, to find out what the miracle cure they used was, she was happy to go. 

It was easy enough. She used her Rising Tide contacts, released just enough sensitive information to get SHIELD’s attention, left a trail for them to track her down. It meant sacrificing the Centipede program, but John said the scientists there had hit a roadblock anyhow, maybe SHIELD could even fix it for them.

But then she became a part of the team and suddenly everything didn’t seem quite as clear cut and simple as it had from the outside. She is living with these people, making friends with them to earn their trust, and somehow they got through her defenses too. Especially Ward.

 

The two of them pause outside her door. Skye is hyper aware of the tension between them, and the sparks that skitter across her skin every time her arms brushes against his.

She looks at him once last time, meeting his gaze straight on, before she slides her keycard through the lock and opens the door. Skye steps through the door first, and waits for him to follow her. He is still holding himself so stiffly, like he is waiting for an attack, and she feels the guilt creeping up on her again. The one attack he is actually vulnerable to right now, is the one he would never think to look for.

Ward moves to sit on the bed as she closes the door behind them. His hands are clenched into fists in his lap, his knuckles turning white, and his eyes are staring blankly ahead.

Moving to sit beside him on the bed, she reaches one hand out tentatively to his wrist and squeezes lightly, hoping that the touch will ground him rather than trigger an outburst.

“Do you want to talk about it? About...what you saw?” she asks, keeping her voice soft.

He stares at her hand where it rests against his skin for a long moment. His entire body is held completely still but somehow giving off the impression of a powder keg that could blow at any moment, before his gaze slowly travels up the length of her arm until his eyes meet hers. There is something dark and fevered in his gaze as he stares, unblinking, back at her. His eyes flicker briefly to her lips, and then back to her hand on his wrist, and finally back to meet hers again, before he shakes his head.

Skye opens her mouth to speak again, but then he is leaning in and his mouth is on hers, hot and insistent, and she can’t remember anything of what she might have been about to say. There is something about his kiss that manages to be both violent and gentle at the same time, she can feel the staff’s effects still bubbling under the surface. But his need for touch, for companionship, for _her_ , overwhelms it all.

The first brush of her tongue against his sends shivers sparking through her whole body, causing her to pull back in shock. Skye feels suddenly vulnerable and strangely afraid - she knows that this will change everything, not just between the two of them but for _her_. This is not simply about solidifying her cover anymore, and maybe it never was. 

Ward must read the sudden vulnerability in her face, though he obviously misreads the reasoning behind it. He is looking at her with such softness in his eyes, like she is holding the rope to pull him to safety. Like she’s something sweet, like she is someone worthy of love. As though she isn’t sullied with the blood that stains her hands. 

He seems to work hard to pull himself back, to rein in whatever base urges the effects of the rage are calling for him to do. 

"Skye, hey," he catches her eye. "If this is too much, we can slow down. This doesn't have to happen."

The way his fingers grip into her skin, and the intensity still burning in his gaze, conflicts with his words however. Instead of replying she simply pulls him toward her, hands on either side of his face, diving into the kiss with a force that feels almost violent. Anything to help her remember that she isn’t the girl he believes she is. He growls into her mouth as her teeth scrape against his lower lip, his hands coming up to slide into her hair, pulling her even closer. Her breasts are pushed against his shoulder, and the feel of his tongue against hers, his nipping at her lip, the moans he keeps making, all cause the ache between her thighs to grow stronger.

Pulling back slightly, she takes great satisfaction in the helpless sound he makes as her mouth leaves his. Grinning at him as she swings her leg over his, sliding down until she rests on his lap, almost, but not quite, close enough to feel the bulge in his pants pressed against her. He is staring up at her now like she is the light in his darkness. He reaches his hands up to cup her face again as he pulls her back down to him, sighing into her open mouth like he has gone a lifetime without breathing until now. Trying so hard to regain some control of the situation, or control of herself at least, she rolls her hips roughly against his until his growing erection is pressed up against her. She can feel the growl rumbling through his chest where it is pressed against her own. Gasping, he pulls back to look into her eyes, like he is searching for some answer there. She doesn’t know what he is hoping to find, but she can feel herself falling into the openness she sees in his, the soft warmth and everything he is no longer holding back. Dragging his mouth back to hers, she feels like he is a drug, and she needs more than just a taste, she wants to immerse herself in the way he looks at her.

She can feel his muscles tremble where her hands rest against his shoulders, the tension of the effort it is taking to hold everything together, to keep it all contained. Brushing her lips against his jaw, she whispers in his ear, “Let go, Ward. I can take it. You don’t always have to be the one to carry it.”

He shudders, his breath stuttering against her cheek. As she pulls back to meet his eyes she is taken aback by the longing there, not just for her but for the idea of being relieved of his burdens. And there it is again, that desire to take away his pain, to fix him. It’s ridiculous, she is far too ruined herself to fix anyone, and if he knew the truth about her, he would hate her. But she is drawn to him anyway. This might have started as a mission but it is so much more than that now. She needs him. He fits inside that broken part of her and makes her feel whole. And she is selfish enough that she doesn’t want to ever give up that feeling. 

“I mean it. Let it go, I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He is still gazing at her with a guarded mix of longing and confusion, so she slides from his lap and kneels between his parted legs. Looking up at him as she reaches for his belt buckle, waiting for the slight jerk of his head to indicate his consent before she continues, “Let someone else look after you for once, Grant.”

He holds her gaze as she unbuckles his belt and undoes his fly, lifting his hips obligingly so she can drag his jeans down just enough for his erection to spring free. The sight of his cock, hard and straining towards her, causes another rush of dampness between her thighs. She licks her lips almost unconsciously as she leans forward, her arms braced upon his thighs. But he stops her suddenly, his hand cupping her jaw and pulling her eyes back up to meet his. There is a question there, one that she incapable of answering, so she runs her tongue against her lower lip and licks the thumb that is resting on her chin. He groans, and she turns her head slightly to pull his thumb into her mouth completely, sucking hard while flicking the tip of her tongue against his skin, holding his gaze the entire time until his eyes roll back. Taking that as her cue, she lets his thumb slip from her mouth with a wet pop and it drags across her cheek as she leans forward to lick the full length of his erection. 

Ward’s hands clench in her hair, not quite hard enough to hurt but almost, and she grins, leaning forward and nipping his hipbone sharply with her teeth. He groans again, and there is something intoxicating about the power she feels now, reducing the great and powerful _Agent Grant Ward_ to this state. 

Wrapping her right hand around the base of his cock she swirls her tongue around the tip, flicking lightly as he gasps, his grip in her hair tightening. Looking up she makes sure his eyes are on her as she takes his length into her mouth, moaning around him as the muscles in his thigh spasm under her hand and his jaw clenches.

He keeps his eyes on hers the entire time, but the soft look in them is too much for her and she breaks their gaze, closing her own as she takes him deeper. Dragging her tongue along the ridges and then sinking back down to take as much of him as she can, his voice is hoarse now, his sentences fragmented but her name is like a prayer. Her fingernails dig into his skin where her hand rests upon his thigh, trying to pull him closer to her, as she picks up her pace and hollows out her cheeks, sucking hard as his hips stutter against her. His hands are everywhere, dragging through her hair, running across her cheek, her jaw, clutching at her shoulder. She chances looking up at his face again and he looks wrecked, a litany of begging and praise falling from his lips, his eyes glazed over and unfocused. He is so far from the rigidly controlled specialist in this moment. He looks destroyed. He looks like the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. _And she did this._

He pushes at her shoulder, tries to warn her he’s about to come, but she just tightens her hold on his hip, and meets his gaze squarely as she swallows around him deliberately. He comes with a hoarse cry of her name as his hips jerk erratically against her, his eyes falling closed as he slumps forward, and his hand still cradling her face so tenderly.

The two of them remain in this tableau, both flushed and breathing hard, for a long moment before he uses the hand against her cheek to pull her face back up to his. He kisses her gently, with a kind of tenderness she has never felt before, and she can feel tears stinging at the edge of her eyes without even knowing why.

Sliding his hands down her body, he grips her under her arms and drags her back up until she is draped across his lap, her legs sprawling across the bed beside him and her face turned up to his as he leans down to kiss her softly, his fingers tracing the curve of her arched throat. He presses kisses so gentle and sweet against her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. He pulls the neckline of her shirt aside so he can kiss her clavicle and she claws at his shoulders, wanting more of him, wanting him closer. 

Skye runs her hands across his chest, taking a good long moment to appreciate the muscles she has admired from a distance for so long, before pushing his jacket from his shoulders. He moves his arms to accommodate her, without ever taking his mouth away from her skin. He only breaks the contact when she drags his t-shirt over his shoulders. He has to pull away so she can slide it over his head before she tosses it off to the side, before she moves to straddle his lap. 

Ward’s chest is heaving, pushing against her own as they inhale in sync. He slides his hands around her hips, squeezing her ass and pulling her closer before he moves to slide her own shirt off. As her breasts are exposed, cupped in black lace, his eyes darken with need. Ducking his head, he sucks at her nipples through the fabric, the combination of the heat of his mouth and the roughness of the now wet lace against her tender flesh, kicking the building heat inside her up a notch.

His hands slide around behind her to fumble with the hook of her bra, his normally nimble touch seemingly gone as he eventually just yanks at the clasp until it comes loose. A distant part of her really hopes he didn’t just break her favorite bra, but the front and center part of her brain just wants to feel his bare skin pressed against her own.

Ward’s kisses have taken on a feverish quality now, as his hands move down to undo her fly before he swiftly shifts them around on the bed so she is laying on her back and he hovers above her. He gazes down at her body, a fire burning behind his eyes as he drinks in the sight of her. Moving down the bed, dragging her jeans and underwear down her thighs as he goes, stopping to deal with her boots before pulling her jeans over her feet with a flourish. Rolling her eyes as she grins at him, she motions to his jeans, the fly still undone but his cock tucked back inside. Smirking at her, a dark glint in his eye, he pulls of his boots quickly before shoving his jeans down. (Smirking again at the way her eyes darken at the sight of him standing completely naked before her, every wet dream she ever had come to life.)

Then he is crawling back up to her, with all the grace and the predatory glint in his eye of a panther as he covers her body with his own. But underneath that darkness and the fire, there is something so vulnerable behind his gaze when he looks down at her. That fear, that longing to belong that she knows so well. And she knows that this is not about the mission for her anymore, if it ever was. She wants him, she _needs_ him, and she sees that need reflected in his eyes.

The rage coursing through him seems to war with the tenderness in his touch. He seems so fragile in this moment, like she could break him with a word, despite the strength coiled in him. All of it calls to some long dormant protective part of her.

She has crossed so many of her old moral lines since John Garrett took her under his wing. This is hardly the first time she has used her body to complete a job, and that is definitely not the worst thing she has done in the name of the mission. But this is the first time that it has ever felt real, that it has ever been personal.

She is not the sweet and innocent Skye that Ward believes her to be, and in that moment she wishes more than anything that she could be. That things could be different and she really could be just an idealistic hacker that they picked up off the streets of LA. Maybe then they would actually have a chance of making this something other than a tragedy waiting to end in bloodshed and heartbreak.

But there is nothing to be gained by wishing for things she can never have, she ought to have learned that by now. So she grabs at his shoulders to bring him closer and kisses him, open mouthed and hard and dirty. He moans into her mouth when his cock, half hard again already, brushes against the wetness between her thighs. He slides through the slick flesh, brushing against her clit as she gasps and tries to grind against him. He just smirks and nips against her jaw, kissing his way down her throat on his way to her breasts.

His mouth on her nipple sends a shock straight to her core, alternating between flicking hard at the pebbled flesh and lathing it with his tongue. His hands squeeze her just shy of rough, she can still feel the tension in his muscles, the rage working its way through him. But somehow she feels completely safe with him, she knows that he would never take things further than she was willing to let them go.

There is such a part of her that wants to just let this get as rough as he might make it, gasping with pleasure as his teeth close around her nipple and tug, and once again she can feel it, like there is a direct line between her breasts and her clit. Heaving against him, trying to push her chest against him even closer, relishing the weight of him heavy between her thighs as she grinds herself against the hard muscle of his stomach, her arousal leaving a slick trail on his skin and causing something dark and dangerous to flare in his eyes. He nips against the tender skin of the underside of her breast one final time before sliding lower down, his dark eyes on hers the whole time.

He starts out gentle; slow and tentative as he kisses her hipbones, the tender skin of her inner thighs. Stopping to inhale deeply, his nose brushes against her clit as he exhales roughly through his mouth, a little more of his controlled facade slipping. His tongue flicks out lightly against her, before he flattens it against the full length of her slit, the heat inside only building higher as he works his mouth on her.

His tongue seems to be everywhere, and everything: hard and thick inside her as he kisses her so intimately, tracing figure-8s around her clit, alternating between teasing flicks and sucking hard; and those torturous teasing rough swipes of his tongue against her. She can feel his grin against her skin, as her hands grip in his hair, his hands gripping her hips hard to hold her still.

It is like all of the rage, the intensity, that the staff brought out of him, has been focused instead on this specific task. ( _On making her lose her goddamn mind._ ) When she comes the world flares into whiteness behind her eyelids, exploding into sparks of pleasure that shoot through her to the tips of her curling toes. And still he keeps going, the muscles in his back flexing under her touch as she gasps out his name. His tongue setting a furious pace against her, moving hard inside her and then coming back to flick against her clit before he sucks hard again. It’s too much, it is all too much - his mouth against her is the only thing she can focus on, the only thing that feels real. He is the only thing tethering her to the earth. 

One of his arms is banded around her stomach, keeping her hips still, and the other is stretched up the length of her body, his hand cupping her breast, his fingers squeezing her still tender nipples roughly. She comes again, her breathing ragged as she jerks against him, his name falling brokenly from her lips.

Finally now he lifts his head from her, his mouth glistening slightly in the soft glow of the lamp beside the bed. His eyes are dark and unfocused, the tension humming through him lessened but still present as he stares back at her, unblinking.

Slowly he begins to crawl back up her body, bracing his weight on his arms as he leans down to kiss her, licking the taste of her into her own mouth. She moans at the feel of his tongue sliding against hers, the flavor adding to her still steadily building need for him. And from the feel of his erection resting heavily against her thigh, he still wants more just as much as she does. She nips at his lip before disentangling her body from his, grinning to herself at the helpless moan that escapes him at the loss of her. She walks across the room to rifle through her bag before returning to him with a strip of condoms in her hand. Tossing them on the bed beside him where he has rolled onto his back to watch her, Skye moves to straddle his hips, her slick heat sliding against the underside of his cock as she settles against him and causing both of them to groan. As she leans down to kiss him again, Ward flips their bodies so she is laying beneath him once again. Without meaning to, Skye lets out a surprised shriek of laughter at the unexpected move, and somehow that sound changes everything. Ward grins at her shyly, suddenly back to being her awkward SO playing Battleship with her, rather than the rage-filled Berserker. 

It isn’t like what has happened here between them so far tonight has felt anything less than real, but somehow there has been a kind of removal from their everyday life. She has shown him just a little more of the darkness that dwells inside her, to match his own. But now, suddenly, they are Skye and Ward again, and it feels like so much more all of a sudden: the cover she has been slipping so deep inside that it feels more real than anything else she has ever been, and the guy who makes her feel something for the first time in so long, want something just for herself for once.

And as he reaches out to grab one of the condoms, tearing the packet open and sliding the latex down his erection, there is an odd kind of shyness between them that feels so out of place after the thorough explorations they have both already made of each others bodies tonight. It is ridiculous, but she feels almost virginal beneath him. And in a way it is almost like she is. This is the first time it has ever felt like it meant anything, where it wasn’t just to scratch an itch or achieve an objective for the mission. (She blocks out the thought that that is exactly what this really is. Because it isn’t anymore, it is about so much more than that now.) She wonders if it is the same for him, if he has ever slept with a woman just because he desired her, just because she was special to him, or if it has always been about the mission for him as well.

He meets her eye just before he slides inside her, waiting for her nod before he moves, his eyes falling shut as the heat of her surrounds him. Skye moans at the feel of him sinking into her so slow, stretching and filling her so deliciously. She can feel the tension in his body as he holds himself so tightly, like he’s scared he’ll break her if he lets go of everything he’s holding back. His thrusts begin to pick up pace though, spurred on by her moans and her heels digging into his ass, dragging him roughly against her. The tension in his arms ebbs a little, replaced by a determined focus, each movement of his body against hers designed to drag as much pleasure out of her as he can, his eyes never leaving hers the whole time. There’s something in that - his eyes gazing into hers so softly, while his body pounds against hers harshly, that makes her feel something sharp twist in her chest, like he’s somehow cut her open but it’s healing her instead of harming her. 

She can still feel that Berserker rage underneath the surface, in the tension of his shoulders the harshness of his breathing, but it seems somehow like she’s grounding him. Like their connection is pulling him through the darkness that has been trying to drown him. Skye feels a sob catching in her throat before she ever felt the urge to cry, everything overwhelming her suddenly, and she feels like she has lost her only sure footing she has ever known. But Ward is there, his hands cupping her cheeks, kissing her eyelids, his thrusts slowing as he gently asks her, “Are you ok?”

Smiling at him through slightly teary eyes, she nods. When he still looks unsure, she leans up to capture his mouth with her own, trying to pour everything she can’t say, all these feelings she doesn’t even understand yet, into her kiss. Everything she has ever known, everything she’s ever been sure of, feels so uncertain now. Everything but this, what she feels right now is the realest thing she has ever felt. She has no idea what the future holds for her, but right here in this moment, she feels more alive than ever before. Ward broke through some wall inside her she never even knew was there, and now all of these emotions she has never known are threatening to overwhelm her. A part of her, a big part, is terrified and wants to run. But the stronger part of her wants nothing more than to stay right here forever, wants nothing more than to see that look of wonder in Grant Ward’s eyes as he looks at her.

Some of what she’s trying to make clear must make sense to him, because he kisses her back with fervor, his mouth hot on hers. She rolls them again so she is on top, repositioning herself over his erection when he slips out of her in the move, groaning as he fills her again and arching her back at the way the change in position has him hitting her g-spot with every roll of her hips against him. They start off slow like that, her rolling lazy figure-8s against him while his hands grip her hips, his knuckles turning white, before he finally breaks, his hold on her hips punishing as he thrusts his hips up into her.

Skye cries out, the sound deep and primal, as her orgasm washes over her, and his pace never falters. His hips piston up into her at a speed that leaves her breathless, feeling the heat and pressure begin to build again already. She has no idea if this is some side effect of the Berserker rage, or if it is just Ward, but either way she never wants this to end, and his endurance seems limitless. Nothing outside of the two of them exists. In this moment there is no SHIELD, no Hydra, no separate sides to choose, no enemies as lovers. There is just the two of them and all of this joy that is spilling from her open heart. His hands digging into her hips is the only thing keeping her grounded to the earth, the connection between the two of them feeling exactly like every cheesy romance novel she ever rolled her eyes at. She feels like there is some deeper bond than physical here between the two of them now, like her breath fills his lungs, like his moans come from her throat. 

Her hands are clenched in the skin of his chest, her nails drawing blood she notices distantly, he doesn’t even seem aware of it, his hips still driving into her, his eyes still holding hers. She feels entirely exposed under his steady gaze, and somehow she doesn’t even care. A lifetime of hiding her secrets, now she wants nothing more than to lay beside him and tell him every single thing she has ever done. She wants him to know her so completely, but at the same time she can feel fear begin to creep in. If he knew the truth about her he would never want her. Or would he? Is there a chance of this ever being real? Is there a world where she could have him, find her family, and save Garrett? Or will she only ever be able to choose one?

Skye’s sure he will have seen the sudden doubt creep in her eyes, but his own are sliding shut, his thrusts growing erratic as his fingers dig even harder into her skin as he comes. As he slowly comes down, his breathing ragged, he drags one hand down between their bodies and rubs her clit until she follows him over the edge one last time. She slumps bonelessly against him, breathing hard with her face tucked into the crook of his neck, one of his hands coming up to stroke her hair off the sweat slick skin of her shoulders.The gentleness of his touch is still warring with the tension she can still sense in his body. The rage seems to be fading though, his body relaxing slowly into the warmth of her embrace. 

She has always been attracted to Ward, purely on a physical level to begin with, and then growing to a stronger emotional connection as he slowly began to open up to her. But after seeing the darkness that dwells inside him, that shadowy place that calls to her own, she feels more strongly than ever that he is the one for her. And she decides there and then that no matter what, she isn’t giving this up. 

One way or another, she will find a way to get what she needs, but she isn’t going to lose him.


End file.
